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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064989">very angsty very short oneshots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgusting_horny_bitch/pseuds/disgusting_horny_bitch'>disgusting_horny_bitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dbh is sad rn [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And I've Stomped All Over It Again, Angst, Damian Wayne Doesn't Get a Hug, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne Whump, Gen, Hurt Damian Wayne, Hurt No Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:54:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgusting_horny_bitch/pseuds/disgusting_horny_bitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1. falling (from grace)<br/>2. crushed (by devastation)<br/>3. hung (by your words)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dbh is sad rn [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>very angsty very short oneshots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Uh none of these are connected I just wanted Damian to suffer thx</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind bit at his skin harshly, the cold sending a chill throughout his bones as he continued to plummet from everything towards nothing. Story of his life, he supposed. Curling further into himself, he looked over his shoulder, wondering when, or even if, his destination would arrive. When he would go splat. It didn’t matter much. Dead in hell, or alive here, falling forever, neither was a great option. He’d die of dehydration soon anyways. Hell was fast approaching whether he liked it or not. It was dark here. So dark that he could barely see an inch in front of himself. The wind whipping past his ears was loud, almost as loud as his head would get when there was silence. It felt familiar in a way. Normal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>2.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damian can feel the way his ribs struggle to accommodate his softly gasping lungs as he hacks the dust out of his throat. He’s pretty sure his legs are crushed beyond repair and his vision is a sickening red that reminds him too much of hell. His arms are sore and his head pounds and rings as he tries to lift it, searching for any sign of his family. He’s in a daze and doesn’t know how long he lays there, slowly breathing, struggling to do even that, under the hot, hot sun as he feels and sees the blood seep out of him. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he next comes to, there’s a familiar pair of feet in front of him. Attached to the pair of feet is a surprisingly calm and unreadable Nightwing. Damian reaches out towards him, confused as to why he’s just standing there, barely two feet away from his head, staring at him as he dies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ri-” He coughs, blood coming up with his saliva. “Richard,” he manages finally, his tone hopeful, relieved. He reaches out with a bloodied hand, the dark liquid smearing over the rubble that surrounds him. Nightwing steps back, his expression one of disgust as he turns, walking briskly away, refusing to even glance back at Damian, as if he was a dying insect instead of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>brother</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Instead of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>son</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Richard!” Damian yells, when he realizes the man’s not intent on coming back. “Richard!” he yells, his voice cracking and wheezing. “Richard! Please! Don’t leave me! Richard!” He’s sobbing now, tears running down his face and sharply stinging his cuts as he struggles, clawing at the ground as his only hope, his only light, walks away from him. Nightwing disappears behind another pile of rubble and like that, Damian’s doomed. Nightwing doesn’t care. Richard doesn’t care. Damian saw how he looked at him. Richard didn’t love him. Richard </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. He supposed it was justified though. Who’s he kidding? There’s no way anyone could have ever loved him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>3. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tim’s lying</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The thought resounds in Damian’s head like a large brass gong. It’s unwelcome, yet it announces its presence with grandeur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he stares at Tim from behind his father, he can see it, see the glint in his eye as he fibs to Father, hear the pleased tone in his voice, practically feel the smugness radiating off of him the same way he can feel his father’s anger. Tim finishes and his father dismisses him softly, promising comfort later. After Damian’s punishment of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damian keeps his eyes to the ground as Father turns to him, his heavy frame towering over Damian as it does every day. And yet, Father seems taller, bigger. He seems larger. Or maybe Damian just feels small. He’s not sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s never sure anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damian has no idea what Tim told Father. After he had realized he had lied, he stopped paying attention. There was nothing he could do to sway his Father’s mind. It was better to just accept the punishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not to go on patrol or see Jon for a month. Alfred is to handle his pets and his art materials are taken. He is to think about what he did and find something else to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damian just wants this over with. He agrees, humming or grunting at the right times and he’s finally allowed to leave. His father’s voice. It was so angry. So cold and bitter towards him. And why? Because Tim believed he needed to be put in his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too tired to care at this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too tired to care about </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> at this point.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it’s probably not normal to hear static in your head when it’s quiet and for some reason I’m just now realizing this and I’m bringing it up with my therapist and pediatrician soon dw abt it um it's probably my adhd</p><p>I am very tired because my mental health isn't great and what do I do when my mental health isn't great? I stop taking care of myself like a dumbass.</p><p>Honestly this (series) is the most I've written in a while...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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